<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Bhangra by Yass_Rani</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25177624">Bhangra</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yass_Rani/pseuds/Yass_Rani'>Yass_Rani</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Desi Good Omens [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aziraphale doing bhangra is such a good concept and that tumblr post made my day, Gen, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:55:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,566</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25177624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yass_Rani/pseuds/Yass_Rani</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The angel loves gavotte, right? Right. Well, he also loves Bhangra.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Desi Good Omens [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823968</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bhangra</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wanted to make art but I’m better at this than drawing but I will, however, try to do it, in the meantime - I hope you like it! Please like and leave comments! I appreciate everything!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale loved dancing.</p>
<p>He hid it well, but he certainly was upset about the gavotte going out of style.</p>
<p>He’d never said anything, but Crowley knew full well about how the angel felt about most of the dance styles out there today – his pursed lips and aloofness about the subject were a clear, dead giveaway.</p>
<p>Aziraphale was very, very set on his opinion that Crowley definitely had a hand in making those ridiculous dances even though said demon had sworn on his stash of holy water that he did <em>nothing </em>to bring about the damned existence of TikTok and the aforementioned dances his lover hated – The commendation he’d gotten from Hell for “creating the dastardly trend of TikTok among humans” didn’t help his case either.</p>
<p>Except for waltz, of course, the angel was biased towards it due to all those nights he’d glided with Crowley across huge palace ballrooms that they’d sneaked into after a dinner at the Ritz, dancing the night away oblivious to anything except pure love – the demon had an affinity to take their dates over the roof, not that Aziraphale was anywhere <em>near</em> complaining about it, poor thing loved all the attention after what he’d gotten through 6000 years.</p>
<p>Although, Aziraphale’s preference towards the one dance form he’d learnt since the Gavotte was unparalleled. He loved dancing and twirling as the drums beat loud and fast. It had the same jolly energy as what first pulled him to the Gavotte, and the first time he saw it being performed, he knew – if there was one dance he wanted to learn after the Gavotte, it was this. He loved it.</p>
<p>He loved Bhangra.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>
  <em>1975, Punjab, India.</em>
</p>
<p>Aziraphale was visiting. He’d convinced himself it was to do his <em>heavenly duties</em>, but actually, it was his thousandth time travelling to India.</p>
<p>He’d been awestruck ever since he first stepped foot here during the first few centuries he was on Earth – way before the western world had started off about dear old Christ’s birth being the timeline of things.</p>
<p>The first time he found himself in the subcontinent was on a heavenly mission, do some blessings and such, and it was supposed to be a one day affair – he found himself staying for nearly five years and only turning back when he received a note from heaven about his next task.</p>
<p>This time, however, he had no mission from Head Office, he just locked up his shop, left a note for Crowley – not that he’d ever have expected a visit, oh no, no way. Just to make sure the demon would hold up his end of the agreement and not turn Soho into a pool of sin by the time he’d gotten back from his little trip – and left the continent with a snap.</p>
<p>He’d landed in a small village somewhere north and asked around to find out it was in a place called Punjab.</p>
<p>The angel had read about it, of course, and heard from Crowley when the demon was working in these parts while Aziraphale handled South India during the colonisation. That always brought a shudder through him. <em>Terrible times.</em></p>
<p>He entered the nearby town, pleasantly surprised at finding a loud, colourful atmosphere – a huge change from the last time he was in this part of the world. Perhaps some festival was happening, might as well look around.  Someone, Aziraphale couldn’t really remember who, told him once that the local food was to die for, and the angel was never one to back off from trying new food.</p>
<p>Well enough, he embarked on a search for a place to have lunch, wading amidst the multitude of people in colourful outfits – <em>kurtas</em> – he later found out they were called, might have to buy a few sets for himself, maybe a nice black one for Crowley, he’d like a gift after all the holy water nonsense, wouldn’t he?</p>
<p>As the sun reached its highest, he found himself walking into a small Dhaba, quite full but not like it was crowded, a perfect atmosphere and-</p>
<p>Oh, good <em>god,</em> the smell.</p>
<p>Strong aromas of spice and meat and butter flowed through the dining area, as he took a seat near a window, overlooking some sort of a stage, perhaps it was for a performance in the evening.</p>
<p>A waiter came over with a scowl on his face despite the happy atmosphere of the village – Aziraphale wasn’t going to blame him for being apprehensive, the British did only leave about a year ago. He asked what Aziraphale would like to have with a quirk of his eyebrows, to which the angel replied, “Butter chicken, please.”</p>
<p>By the time the waiter came back with his lunch, Aziraphale observed all the hubbub of the festival, children buying snacks, music playing from drummers, people starting to whoop and sing along to some well-known folk song and felt so much love around the area he couldn’t help but widen his smile.</p>
<p>The moment the aroma of butter chicken and rice hit his nose, he thanked the waiter and dived in, because who wouldn’t, it’s butter chicken. He loved how the spiced buttery gravy melted in his mouth and how the rice went along so well with chicken. He took his time savouring the delicacy when-</p>
<p>The drums started beating louder, the people cheered and whooped as a few people in colourful garb walked on to the stage. The drums beat a strong, upbeat tune as people on the other side of the stage started singing. Aziraphale was mesmerized by the dancers on stage. He stared at them, transfixed on the colour of their dresses, the twirling across the stage and how much fun they were having as they danced around to the music. He even felt waves of happiness radiate from the crowd.</p>
<p>His lunch forgotten, Aziraphale made his way to the crowd and watched the performance until the sunset and everyone began to disperse for dinner and drinks and other customs of the festival. The angel used that break as an opening to one of the best decisions he’d made in his life.</p>
<p>
  <em>---</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The present, South Downs Cottage, England.</em>
</p>
<p>Aziraphale was happy.</p>
<p>It had been nearly a year since him and Crowley had confessed their long-lasting feelings for each other, and a few months since they’d moved in together into a nice little cottage just outside of London. They had nothing to fear, and expressed themselves freely and let each other into whatever walls they’d built over the millennia they knew each other.</p>
<p>Right now, Crowley had been out to the florists for a while – he wanted to buy new plants because the ones he’d trained well were now completely onto his act because they saw him kiss the angel <em>once</em> and then onwards they’d sucked up to Aziraphale every time he even looked at them. He needed to get new ones that actually would listen to him and not moon over the angel.</p>
<p>Just because Crowley did doesn’t mean his plants could.</p>
<p>Back to Aziraphale – he’d just finished his book and a cup of tea, waiting around for his partner to get back home so they could watch the damned series the demon had hooked him to.</p>
<p>Except, the thing called YouTube was playing random music and Aziraphale didn’t know how to change it or turn it off – miracling it off was out of the question, he didn’t want to mess with technology and magic.</p>
<p>While he was trying to find the black stick Crowley’d use to control the television, the music on the speakers changed to something he recognised from years ago. Drums and voices rang across the living room as Aziraphale turned his head to the screen, only to find Bhangra music playing as people danced to it, just like he saw all those years ago.</p>
<p>And just like he learnt it later.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Crowley walked to the door, plants in his hands and nudged the door open with his foot.</p>
<p>The music coming from the living room made him furrow his eyebrows in confusion because all he’d heard Aziraphale listen to was boring classical music and <em>jazz</em> for someone’s sake – and here he was playing Indian dance music in the middle of the day!</p>
<p>The demon set his plants down in the doorway as he sauntered into the living room to see what was going on, only to witness a dash of colour as his angel – <em>his angel, still had butterflies every time he thought that</em> – was twirling around the room in a beige kurta and balloon pants, all made of silk with a plaid pattern on the undershirt.</p>
<p>He watched quietly as Aziraphale glided across the room, twirling and stomping and jumping, matching the music with a glint in his eyes and a smile on his face.</p>
<p>“Didn’t tell me you dance, angel.”</p>
<p>The angel’s face turned as red as the roses in Crowley’s hand as he sheepishly grinned at the demon, who’d paused the music and was sauntering towards him.</p>
<p>“I- um- I learnt it when I went to- to India-”</p>
<p>“You dance good, angel,” Crowley winked and whispered, “care to teach?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale beamed and went on to start the music over as he miracled Crowley’s clothes into a black kurta and pants, rambling on about the Bhangra music and how he first saw the dance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>EDIT:</p>
<p>I made a companion art piece for this: <a href="https://yass-rani.tumblr.com/post/623445541536366592/bhangra">It's here!</a></p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>